


And your love is standing next to me

by cigarettesandalcohol



Series: Their Little Lion [6]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: M/M, too many people in a relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-04-12 11:02:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19130716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cigarettesandalcohol/pseuds/cigarettesandalcohol
Summary: Harry meets Gareth (yet again).





	And your love is standing next to me

"Come here."

Harry smiled shyly, obeying as usual. Gareth's gentle hand touched the two-day stubble on his jawline and Harry leaned into the touch and pushed his chin further into Gareth's waiting open palms. It felt so nice, being finally able to rest his head like that.

"Dogs do this," Gareth laughed quietly. "You leave your hands like this, with palms up, and they come and lay their head on it, looking at you with devotion, wiggling their tail."

"I remind you of _a dog_?"

"A very well behaved, intelligent and loyal golden retriever." Harry's unsure expression seemed to amuse his manager. "I mean it in the nicest way, Harry."

Kane knew that. If Poch had said something like this, it would have a completely different meaning though. Gareth's comparison to a golden retriever was flattering, Harry could feel his heart fill with pride and gratitude; had it been Mauricio saying such thing, it would make him feel unworthy, unequal and more so, dependant on Pochettino more than he already was. He still probably wouldn't mind that.

 _Love_ feels very different from the two of them.

Mauricio's love comes in spurts, passionate and aggressive, fulfilling and draining at the same time, accompanied by heavy ragged breathing, ever-exploring touches and lack of vocabulary balanced with excessive moaning, whimpering and biting. Loving Pochettino meant sleepless nights, sneaking across the hall between their hotel rooms, Pochettino pulling his hair and repeating ' _Harry, Harry, Harry_ ' until he lost his voice, with tears of exhausting satisfaction in his eyes. Loving Pochettino meant night, darkness, lust, passion and exploration, going where neither of them has ever been, holding onto each other desperately and hoping for the night to never end.

Where relationship with Mauricio makes the wildest twists and turns, Gareth's love comes as a simple, elegant and straight line. Mauricio's fire burns bright, but only sometimes; Gareth's soothing voice is always there when Harry needs it the most. His soul, exhausted, drained and shattered needs the kind of shield Gareth can offer; the heavy panting and lack of breath can be easily swapped for an aligned heartbeat, clasped hands and entangled limbs. If being with Mauricio was right for the night where all their secrets could be hidden within the four walls and sweaty bedsheets; the day time that suited Gareth was the morning. Awaking in his embrace, sleepily cuddling closer to him, mumbling something against his chest - those were the moments Harry remembered most clearly from his time with Gareth. Sleepy kisses, giggles and Gareth's usual " _'morning, handsome_ " greeting, followed by a light kiss in Harry's disheveled hair.

Mauricio is the night, Southgate is the day; and Mauricio is the fire, while Gareth is the ice - and Harry can't find enough comparisons and metaphors to quite portray what he feels with them both, how similarly well and loved and praised and appreciated he feels with them, although it's a different kind of feeling and a different type of love. 

"Kiss me," Gareth said, with his thumbs massaging Harry's jawline. "Just kiss me."

Harry would never say no to such a demand; he looked deep in the manager's eyes. taking a deep breath, and he had decided to repay him the firm touch and caress - he took Gareth's face in his hands and pulled it closer, into a loving embrace, and parted his lips to receive a kiss from him.

"So good," Gareth mumbled against his still parted lips. Harry actually shakes from head to toe with anticipation. Kissing was one thing - their bodies pressed together was something completely else.

Harry has never really cared about the different taste of the people he kissed but as soon as Gareth had mentioned it, he knew immediately what he'd meant. He and Mauricio were both just as different from kissing as with all the other things. Poch's kisses were hungry, desperate and deep, filled with all different kinds of suckling, licking and biting as if that was the only way for them to actually seal their relationship. Gareth's kisses felt more natural and sweet; they were short and light, with their lips hardly touching at first, but later on, gradually deepening and growing with time.

"Want you," Harry choked out, with his eyes closed. He wasn't able to even look at Gareth; he couldn't say such words in his face. " _Want you so bad_."

He doesn't care whether he's coherent or not; he's sure Southgate can understand him anyway. He doesn't need the right words said in the right tone - the voice, the breath, the touch are efficient enough. "Come on, Harry."

When Southgate tries to unbutton his waistcoat - _God_ , his fucking ridiculous navy blue waistcoat - Harry stops him, grabbing his hands with a force that surprises them both.

"Leave it all on," he says, trying to not sound as desperate as he feels. "I want you like this."

 Gareth's look seems a bit questioning and uncomfortable but Harry tries his best to not break the spell of the moment.

He doesn't really want to have sex with Gareth - not right now at this moment anyway, but he knows there are so many other ways of expressing the desire that burns in his veins. This is his favorite one - him and Gareth meeting casually in one of their rooms, fully clothed, looking as representable as they could. There's something undeniably erotic in that - the atmosphere of a short-term stay in a hotel, them both wearing their best suits as if they've just come from an official photo shoot with the whole team - and Harry doesn't want to be the one to ruin it.

"You like it kinky, don't you?"

Gareth's voice is softly vibrating right in his ear and it sends shivers down his spine, making him tremble from head to toe.

"All dressed up, grinding against me," Gareth continues, wrapping his hand around the younger man's waist. Their bodies fit perfectly together; that's something nobody could deny. Gareth's hands hold him firmly around the waist in a very caring way; it makes him feel both safe and wanted at the same time. "You really are a treat, Harry."

Gareth smiles, and that shy, decent smile lightens up his whole face; Harry loves the way he smiles - and the way it fills his heart with love. This man has driven him insane over his crooked nose and teeth and silly waistcoat but Harry wouldn't change a thing about it.

"Love you," Harry whimpers, trying to not sound too sloppy and desperate. He still has to think - they're standing in the middle of Gareth's room, getting way too intimate, although still being fully clothed. The fact they're both wearing their suits seems undeniably erotic to him. It just reminds him of the fact they've just come to the room and had no time to make themselves more comfortable and relaxed - they simply couldn't wait _that_ long. With their bodies clothed, the friction somehow feels even nicer - it's something about the feeling of desperate need and inability to wait to get undressed that gets under Harry's skin; he digs his fingers deeper in Gareth's skin, takes a deep breath and grinds his hips against his manager's; it feels like the most natural thing to do.

 He's intoxicated by the smell, the feeling, the atmosphere.

They're both almost silent for a while, fully focused on the actions more than words; Gareth holds him in his arms and moves in complete coordination with his star skipper - their bodies are one, their moves are aligned, and Harry can feel the excitement of Gareth; quite _literally_.

 " _Harry_."

Gareth's voice sounds dazed and unclear with all the emotions but Kane doesn't care, all he cares about is the feeling of the older man's body against his. 

"Feels good," he mumbles, tracing a line of kisses down Gareth's neck. " _Good_ ," he exhales against the soft skin of Gareth's neck.

Their desperate friction gets faster in a hazed chase for an easy orgasm; Harry can feel the change of pace - and he couldn't care less. Southgate's body feels like his own; they're so used to being one it doesn't even feel strange. Gareth pants heavily into the crook of his neck and that's all he needs to feel and hear; he can't really say why it sounds like the most erotic thing to him. "Fuck," he mumbles, closing his eyes. It gives him the opportunity to actually enjoy Gareth with his other senses; the touch, the smell, the sound.

 "Come on, Harry. I'm not so young anymore."

Harry's eyes snap open, he fears he might have done something wrong but Gareth's face is lit with a cheeky grin.

"I need something more."

 _Oh._ At that moment, Harry can feel the subtle touch of Gareth's hand on his bulging pants and the sound of a zip being undone. 

"And I really want you in my bed."

Harry nods, swallowing; he can feel his cock throb under the touch of the elegant slim fingers.

" _Good boy_."

How could he ever say no to this?


End file.
